Pillow Talk
by JoBethMegAmy. my homegirls
Summary: This aspires to be a series of oneshots derived from that final scene in 3.8. Because seriously, it had the potential for so much gay in so many ways to be limited to just ONE oneshot.
1. Dream Wedding

**A/N: **omg, someone stop me! Rizzles is literally consuming my life! That last scene has inspired me like I think no other in R&I history. There are so many ways it could have led to Rizzles, and I hope to explore a few of them here. This one was inspired a bit by the last chapter of the CJ sequel, probably. Hopefully with a bit happier of a conclusion. The next one will be fluffier.

* * *

"Can I come?"

"Maybe."

Maura propped herself up on her elbows, looking down at her smirking friend in faux annoyance. "Only 'maybe?'"

"Yeah," Jane laughed, and Maura lay back down. Then before she could stop herself, out it came: "Depends on what you come as."

Jane all but physically bit her lip after the words had slipped out. She could see Maura had turned her head to look at her, but Jane stayed resolutely on her back, staring resolutely at the ceiling. Frantically she tried to think of a way out, to explain away the comment in some simple, humorous way. Why would Maura assume the truth—that she had meant Maura could come to her Fenway Park wedding only as the other bride? _Tell her you meant as a bridesmaid. Or anyone but Tommy's date. Or dressed as like a cheerleader or something! I dunno, just __some__thing, Rizzoli! _

Before she could come up with a good excuse, Maura asked in a very serious voice, "Who did you picture marrying, Jane?"

"What? Nobody…"

"Jane. A little girl doesn't meticulously plan out her wedding day _that _much without having at least a vague idea of who she sees as the groom. A friend, a neighbor, even an older celebrity?"

Maura noticed that Jane was kneading her hands, a sign of a nervousness. She was still looking up at the ceiling, knowing she'd lose her nerve if she so much as glanced at the gorgeous woman lying next to her on the mattress. "Truth?" Jane whispered so quietly, so weakly, that Maura almost missed it.

"Truth," Maura said quietly back. It had been surprisingly hard to get just the one word out, but she had worried that if she simply nodded, Jane would miss it.

Taking a deep breath, Jane kept her eyes focused upwards and forced herself to get the story out. Maybe Maura would just think it was cute. Stupid. Meaningless. "I pictured myself marrying Emma Wilson." She waited for it, she strained her ears for any laughter or sounds of disbelief. She was even almost tempted to look over at Maura when the woman failed to react in any audible or visible way. Jane needed a moment to compose herself before continuing, trying to calm her heart down enough that she'd be able to hear her own words when she braved speaking up again.

"Who was she?" Maura asked softly.

"She was my best friend," Jane said with a short, nervous laugh. "And my mother always told me that's what being married was about—living with your best friend forever. And that calmed me down, because I, y'know, like all girls at that age I thought boys were gross. Cooties and all that stuff. They were jerks, they called me stuff like Roly Poly Rizzoli, or Frog-face. Right? Who wants to marry a boy?" She laughed and it was a little more forced. "So when Ma said we marry our best friends, I remember feeling relieved. I was like seven, I think. And I said, 'oh, okay. I'll marry Emma, then. She's my best friend." The fake smile left Jane's face abruptly as she cut off, suddenly choking back tears. With a loud sniff, she staved them off a bit longer. "And Ma said, 'no, no, no, Janie. Girls don't marry girls. I know it's crazy to believe, but someday you'll like boys.

"But I didn't believe her. I thought… this is so dumb, I know, but I thought like—Emma and I used to talk about our names a lot. Like how my parents had planned on calling me Francesco if I'd been boy, and how Emma was going to be Charles if _she'd_ been a boy."

"So…you were going to marry Charles?" Maura guessed.

With a shuddering laugh, Jane said, "Something like that, yeah. I was a weird kid, Maura, a real mental case. I figured we could tell Emma's family she'd been in accident or gotten kidnapped or something, and then she'd come back in disguise dressed like a boy, and that's how we'd get married. Nobody would know she was really a girl, really Emma. I never figured out how it'd work, like—of course I wanted her family to be at our wedding, but if they didn't know it was really Emma, why would they be there? And wouldn't it be sad?"

"Jane, that's…tragic," Maura whispered.

The more Jane thought about it, the more it was. When she was a kid, it hadn't seemed so depressing. It had just been one fantasy she'd had one time and obviously not put very much thought into. Why did she remember it so clearly? "Yeah, kinda screwed up, huh? I guess the chivalrous thing to do would have been to be the one to disappear myself, but then _I'd _have had to be the one who came back disguised as a boy, and believe it or not, Emma was actually more butch than I was."

Maura had very consciously been waiting for Jane to turn towards her, or to at least reach out to her, not wanting to be the one initiate contact and possibly scare her away. But when she saw Jane trying to laugh this off as a tear slid down her cheek, Maura couldn't keep to herself anymore. She leaned over and pressed her index finger to Jane's face, stopping the first tear in its track, and as she'd predicted, the touch made Jane shiver a little.

"Isn't it nice," Maura murmured, "that now little girls in can fantasize about marrying other girls, without having to hide it? And in Massachusetts and other states, those dreams can actually, legally come true?"

"Yeah it's nice for them," Jane said. "The gay ones. But I wasn't gay, Maura. And I'm not. I just was confused is all—I mean, confused about what marriage was."

"A romantic commitment to your best friend."

"Well I didn't know it was romantic," Jane said, her tone sounding anxious and defensive. She finally rolled onto her side, propping herself up on one elbow to look properly at Maura. The expression on her face took Jane's breath away, and she had to fight to remember the rest of what she had wanted to say. "I mean, in movies and stuff there was always a wedding at the end because the couple fell in love, but I didn't see that in real life. I didn't see my parents as having a romantic relationship, and _they _were married. I just figured it meant you lived with your best friend all the time and hung out with them. And had kids with them, y'know?"

Maura nodded. She had never been very good at nonverbal communication, but she silently prayed that Jane could read the look she was trying to give her. "Do you still think marriage, or any relationship, is about being with your best friend?"

Jane's eyes trailed briefly down to Maura's lips before reconnecting with her eyes. She nodded and brushed away a couple of fallen tears. "Yeah," she said in a thick voice. "Yeah, I do. And Maura…"

Maura's voice was little more than a breath. "Yes?"

It was almost astounding to her that Jane, who had just faced down an entire human trafficking ring and fearlessly shot its leader, was now trembling with uncertainty and fright. "You're my best friend," she finally choked out.

She inhaled sharply just before Maura leaned over to kiss her, and Jane found herself reacting instinctively. With almost laughable ease, Maura had rolled Jane onto her back again, and Jane's hands instantly went up to thread themselves through golden hair. What had started out as affectionate proof of something more than friendship escalated quickly, with Jane tightening her grip on Maura's hair and Maura all but pushing her tongue against Jane's lips. Jane's mouth opened and when Maura's tongue touched her own, her leg reflexively jerked up between Maura's and she got an appreciative groan in return.

Maura pulled back only when she felt Jane shuddering beneath her, and she saw more tears leaking out of those dark brown eyes. "It's okay," she whispered, brushing them away again. "Jane, please, it's all right."

"I-I know," Jane stammered. "I mean—are you sure?"

"I'm more than sure," Maura soothed her, giving Jane's cheek one more firm stroke and getting rid of the last tear. "Just so long as you don't make me masquerade as _Charles. _This _is _the 21st century, you know."

Jane let out a shaky laugh, kissing Maura again. "Oh, gosh… Maura, you're… you've…" This time, she did manage to bite her tongue. Whatever it was she and Maura were about to embark on, it didn't seem like a great way to start off a relationship by saying "I've been fantasizing about marrying you." Frankly, she'd never even dreamed she'd make it this far.

Maura picked up when Jane failed to finish her train of thought. "Jane, I want you," she admitted softly. "I want to be with you."

This was surreal. Jane ran her thumb over Maura's lips once more before kissing them again, as if to be certain of their realness. "Those words from your mouth?" she whispered. _"That_ was my fantasy."


	2. I Could Be Your Hero

**A/N**: Reminder- **this is not a continuation of the last chapter**. It's another oneshot inspired by the same scene, because it just produced so many feelings. Happy reading! :)

* * *

It hadn't occurred to Maura for a second to say no when Jane called and asked her to come over. She knew the case had been successfully solved, Harris disposed of, and the remaining girls freed. All Jane wanted now was a friendly face and anything with alcohol in it. She had been in the process of changing into something more casual when Maura arrived, earlier than Jane had expected.

Maura was overwhelmed with a sudden windfall of emotions when Jane opened the door, all of which had everything to do with how Jane was dressed. Over the course of their friendship, Maura had seen Jane in far more revealing clothing, she had seen her almost nude, she had seen her dressed up with the intent of looking glamorous. But there was something about Jane right now: not just the white tanktop, endearing in its beautiful simplicity, although that was certainly part of it. It was the perfect size, molding to Jane's contours in effortless splendor. It did not exhibit much in the way of cleavage, but that didn't matter because it was obvious Jane was wearing one of the bra's she had bought after Maura forced her to go get a real measurement done.

So yes, to use a word Maura often associated with Jane, it was sexy.

But there was more to it than that. In the corner Maura could see Jane's blazer and button-up shirt thrown lazily, comfortably, over the back of a chair. Her tank was tucked into her gray slacks, the belt still on as well. Jane was running a hand through her loose curls, her hair free and down as it usually was in the safe confines of her apartment. She opened the door a little wider for Maura to step in, and as she closed it again, her hand brushed in greeting against Maura's back. It felt almost as if she were saying _welcome home._

The casualness of Jane's appearance, the fact that she had not called her brothers or Frost or anyone else to come over but Maura—it just felt so comfortable and right. _You'd be so nice to come home to_.

Sometimes, most of the time, Maura thought she was imagining it—but often she wondered if there wasn't a mutual dance of attraction going on between them. Normally she considered herself quite blunt and not afraid of going for things she wanted, but with Jane it was different. Trying for something could blow it all up, could ruin their friendship if Maura was misreading the cues. Generally she didn't second-guess herself, but that was in the workplace. This was social. This was Jane, her best friend. Her life.

They were talking about something trivial as Maura poured two glasses of wine. For a while they just stood as they drank, Jane pinching her face a little with every sip and Maura believing she was just trying to get accustomed to the flavor. Then Jane suggested getting a little more comfortable, and Maura assumed they would sit on the couch.

Instead, Jane sat on her new mattress, taking one more sip of the wine before lying completely on her back. Maura bit back a moan when Jane's tank rode up a little bit, exposing her navel. After a moment's hesitation, Maura slid out of her shoes and perched herself on the end of the mattress next to Jane, one hand out to steady herself.

"Are you liking Pinot Noir more now?" she asked, trying to keep the inane conversation going—anything to distract her from how gorgeous Jane was looking right now.

"No," Jane snorted, lifting her glass and placing it on the coffee table nearby. "Frankie and Frost drank all the beer. I figured I owed it to 'em when we found out Riley wasn't just a two-timer, but a _drug-dealing _two-timer."

"Hey, maybe you'll get a new neighbor, and Frankie and Frost will help you move this mattress to your bedroom."

"That'd be _really _nice, 'cause the traffic's _really _loud out here," Jane chuckled.

Maura loved that laugh. The one that was soft, almost hesitant. It didn't feel forced, like the kind that came out of Jane when she was trying to pretend she felt okay, and it wasn't exasperated, like the kind Maura often found herself on the receiving end of.

It struck her how much Jane needed her. Jane needed someone to talk with, to process things with, to be comforted by. It had to be someone with an intimate knowledge of her work and her cases who wouldn't try to pressure her, aggravate her, or mollify her. It had to be someone whose opinion she respected and wanted.

"You did good work today," Maura whispered.

Jane finally turned her head to look at her. "Thanks," she said quietly, kneading her hands. "You don't, uh…it was awful, Maura."

"I can't even imagine," she murmured, setting down her glass and settling onto her back next to Jane.

"I mean, those girls were in a horrible situation to begin with. And then they had the chance to get out of it, and they just walked into something just as bad, if not worse. They were terrified."

"But you saved them," Maura whispered. She turned to look at Jane, but Jane was staring at the ceiling again. "You saved their lives. You went in there and you stopped it all. It must have felt very empowering and comforting for them to see a woman so fearlessly come in to protect them."

"I'm not fearless," Jane muttered, inhaling sharply. "I know I act like it sometimes, Maura, but you know better than that, don't you? I mean yeah, things don't usually frighten me like they scare some people. It takes _some _courage to be a cop. You've gotta be ready for the possibility that every run, every mission could be your last. You put your life on the line every day."

"Jane, we've never really talked about this, but… why did you decide to be a cop?"

Jane smiled crookedly and glanced over at Maura. Her expression was of genuine curiosity, not confusion or exasperation. "I dunno. I know, most girls fantasize about growing up to be ballerinas or princesses, or even cowgirls, but not me. There was this kid—okay, so, when I was in second grade my best friend was Ellie Waters, and for Halloween that year she decided to dress up as a bride. There was a boy in our class named David Kilbride, and when Ellie showed up in her costume, everyone was chanting at David, 'kill the bride! Kill the bride!'"

As Jane was chuckling at the memory, Maura felt safe in laughing as well. "Poor Ellie!"

"I know, right? They kind of got into it, though, y'know. He was chasing her around the classroom—I dunno where the hell our teacher was—and she was screaming dramatically and all that, but I wasn't sure if she was actually afraid that he was going to hurt her or not. She was probably worried something would happen to her lovely costume. So anyway David eventually had her cornered, and I mean he was probably just gonna stick his tongue out at her or something, but I just leapt in front of her. To protect her. I was dressed as a knight, 'cause me and Frankie were going through a _Sword in the Stone _phase, I guess. So I held my big plastic sword up and told David that if he wanted to lay a hand on Ellie, he'd have to change his name to David Kil-knight first."

Maura couldn't fight a smile. "Well that was very chivalrous of you."

"If I'd been a boy, we'd have gotten the hell teased out of us," Jane chuckled. "But David just laughed and said 'bring it on,' and we were gonna fight but then our teacher showed up and told us all to break it up." That could have been the end of the story, and it had been for many other people Jane related the amusing anecdote to, but suddenly now she found herself sharing more. "And Ellie threw her veil off her face and clasped her hands together, and she said 'my hero!' And she… she kissed me. Just on the cheek, y'know. As a thank you."

And it had what, stirred up the eight-year-old equivalent of butterflies in the stomach? Made Jane want to do whatever it took for Ellie to give her another kiss, or just make her smile?

Either way, she was afraid to look at Maura now. She needn't have been; Maura was simply gazing at her in evaluative contemplation. "You realized you liked helping people who couldn't help themselves."

"Yeah, I guess," Jane said. "Something like that. Of course, if someone had bothered to tell me that being a cop didn't guarantee wom—uh, people kissing you in gratitude all the time, I wouldn't have signed up for it." She felt comforted when Maura chuckled at the joke, but then they both sobered up. "Maura, you don't think it was overkill?" she asked, her tone serious all of a sudden.

"What was?"

"Today. I shot him."

"It was my understanding that you had to, that he was threatening Lea's life."

"No, yeah, he was. But I shot him three times."

"_Three?" _She hadn't known that, and the surprise in her tone was obvious.

"Yeah, three. That's not…I usually don't do that, Maura. I shoot once, we all shoot once. Frost, Korsak, whoever we've got as backup. One bullet is all it needs to take. He didn't have a gun—hell, he didn't even have a knife to throw at us. As soon as I got that first bullet in him, that could've been enough. But I kept going." Her breath caught when she saw Maura turn onto her side, and when Maura reached out for her arm. "I shot him two more times after that."

Maura gently rubbed her arm, exerting a little pressure. "You're not sorry, are you?"

Jane took a deep breath. "I don't think I am, no. But I think I know why I did it."

"Why?" Maura asked breathlessly.

Jane had added on that last bit to force herself to keep going. She'd been thinking about it ever since her experience with Dominick a few days previously, starting when he had touched her face to wake her up. She had wanted to open her eyes and see Maura there. And the whole time Jane lay there, all she could think about was Maura—being with her, telling her how she felt, wanting her to know how important she was to her. That's why Jane had been asking her over every night. She was sure Maura thought it was just that Jane didn't want to be alone, but it was because she kept hoping she'd get up the courage to say something. But it never seemed to come up—_"oh hey, Maura, I like you" "Oh hey, wanna date some time?" "Oh hey, you're gorgeous and so amazing and I love you." _

Here, maybe, was her chance. And now she had to talk.

Another deep breath. "I used to be really naïve, Maura. Even when I was a cop. Just a rookie, but still, I should've known better. The first time I saw you, you reminded me a lot of Ellie. You were this pretty little thing, so feminine and so delicate, but so smart and tough in your own way. I had this… not a fantasy, really, but an—an idea of how good it might feel to come to your rescue, if the situation ever presented itself." She tensed, waiting for Maura to remove her hand from Jane's arm, but it stayed put. If anything, the grip tightened, and Jane went on: "I thought it'd be easy, y'know? Because I thought I was fearless. I _was _fearless. And then Hoyt showed up and he ruined everything."

"Hoyt." A very tangible, painful sensation shot through Maura's gut every time that man's name was mentioned. She couldn't begin to imagine what it did to Jane.

"But even still, even after that, I was only afraid for myself, if that makes sense. I worried about other people who got involved in these crimes, and I wanted to save them. I wasn't afraid for them. But I still dreamt about how it would feel to rescue you. And then I had to."

"Oh, Jane…"

With a shuddering breath, Jane said, "I was terrified, Maura. I was scared out of my mind when Hoyt got you, when he cut your neck. That's what Harris did today that sent me over the edge. He cut Lea's neck and it just… triggered something in me. She couldn't save herself, and she was crying, and she was afraid and I snapped. One bullet wasn't enough for him."

She shifted her arm, and Maura moved her hand downwards until Jane could thread their fingers together. Jane's palm was sweaty, and she was grateful for the quiet power Maura asserted in squeezing her hand tightly. Another quick breath was all Jane needed to give herself the strength to turn on her side she could fully face Maura, whose eyes were stinging with tears.

"Hoyt was helluva lot harder to beat than David Kilbride," Jane said with a weak laugh that died in her throat. Maura did not indulge her with even an amused smile. "And it was about as far from a fantasy as I could get, Maura. It was hell. It was _worse _than hell. Because in my head, I was always cool. I had a handle on the situation, and neither of us ever got hurt. But he hurt you and he could've done so much more damage. I freaked out. I lost it. I wanted him to die, and I just reacted." She gulped and Maura's mouth fell open slightly, her breathing quiet but ragged. "And Maura, I'm… I…"

Maura inched over and Jane finally closed the distance between them, reaching out for Maura's neck and pulling her gently into a kiss. One hand went up into glossy hair while the other rested on Maura's hip, bringing her over and on top of Jane, never breaking their kiss. She could feel Maura's tears, knowing they were shed because of Jane's revelation, not from fear of the consequences of what they were currently doing.

With ease and without even thinking about it, Maura slipped her hand onto Jane's torso, brushing her fingers along the exposed skin just under the white tank. She got some sort of whimpering sound in return for her efforts, and she might have teased Jane about it if she weren't completely distracted herself by the way Jane was opening and closing her mouth against her own.

"You know," Maura whispered between kisses, "I don't think I fancy myself always being your damsel… in distress."

Jane leaned back on the mattress, one hand running up and down Maura's side. "I know," she said throatily. "You didn't let me finish."

"Finish what?"

"Explaining." She craned her neck upwards for another kiss, pulling Maura down into her, never wanting to be separated again. There was not a word to describe the feelings this contact stirred up, not a single word. And there was so much more to it than just the physical responses, which were incredible enough on their own, like the way her whole body seemed to clench when Maura's thigh parted her own as she pushed into and against the detective. Jane left a short series of kisses from Maura's lips down her jaw, her neck, and over to her ear before whispering, "I was the one who needed to be rescued—from my stupidity, my stubbornness, and having my head up my ass. And you saved me."

"This isn't going to require that I wear chainmail, is it?" Maura asked. She smiled as she felt Jane's laughter against her throat, and Jane pulled back to look at her.

"Is it all right if _I _do? It is _my_ fantasy, after all."

"It's _our_ fantasy," Maura corrected her, and she felt her insides squirm at the grin Jane gave her. She wanted to come up with something clever to say, but all thoughts were driven from her as Jane kissed her again, and it far exceeded the realm of any mere fantasy.


	3. The Morning After

**A/N**: Again, **not a continuation** of the previous chapter. Just another oneshot based on the conclusion of 3x8.

* * *

_Jane Rizzoli was running as hard and fast as her ten-year-old feet would allow her. She had no idea where she was going; she only knew that she was running late, which was par for the course. Frankie showed up by her side, pulling Tommy behind him in their red wagon._

"_You know where we're going?" Frankie asked between heavy breaths._

"_Nope, I only know we're late!" Jane laughed. But she didn't need to fight for breath, and she didn't even feel tired at all. In fact she was grinning from ear to ear, which she usually didn't do when she was running this hard. "Hey look, Fenway Park! Are we supposed to be in there?"_

"_YES!" Tommy shouted._

_The three siblings ran into the stadium, which was noticeably less crowded than usual. And whatever was going on inside certainly didn't resemble a baseball game. _

_When their mother shouted from home plate, her voice carried as though she were yelling through a megaphone: "Jane Clementine Rizzoli! Get over here right now!" When Jane dutifully ran over, Angela gave her an appraising look and groaned. "You're a mess! Dirt all over you and hair flying wild, on today of all days!" It was with an exasperated sigh of affection that she asked, "What am I going to do with you?" _

"_Ma, I don't understand. What's going on?"_

"_Don't you remember, Jane? It was your idea! Today's the rehearsal."_

"_Rehearsal? For what?"_

"_Your wedding!"_

"_What? Ma, are you crazy?"_

"_No, __you're__ crazy for wanting to get married in a baseball stadium!" Angela laughed. "That's the point of all this, so you can see how crazy an idea it is! If you get it out of your system now, maybe you won't be so eager for a Fenway ceremony when you __do__ get old enough to be married. Now go clean up!"_

_This explanation seemed perfectly reasonable, and Jane ran down to the locker room to get changed. She had always wanted to see what it was like in here, and yet she found herself strangely unbothered about it at the moment. It was just a locker room, undecorated and empty. Or at least, Jane __thought__ it was empty until she heard someone crying. Who though could it be?_

"_Uh…hello?" Jane asked. "Anyone there?"_

_A startled-looking young girl, probably Jane's age, walked out from behind a row of lockers, and Jane felt her jaw drop. This girl was a vision. She was prettier than every painting Jane had seen when her mother dragged the family to see a nearby exhibition for some exposure to culture. Honey-colored hair was swept up in a style more elaborate than Angela probably ever could have dreamed of, which was to say nothing of the incredibly detailed white dress the girl was wearing. Its train just kept going as she walked closer and closer to Jane, her hazel eyes shining brightly with unshed tears._

"_W-who're you?" Jane stammered. _

"_I'm supposed to be the bride," the girl sniffed. "But I'm alone."_

"_Alone? Where's your family?"_

"_They're not here."_

"_Where's your…groom?"_

"_I don't know. He never showed up. Nobody ever showed up."_

"_Were you going to get married here?"_

"_At Fenway Park?" It at least got the girl to laugh a little. "Gosh, no!"_

"_Then what're you doing here?"_

"_I can't remember. What're __you__ doing here?"_

"_Me? Uh, I'm here for a wedding rehearsal. Mine, actually. Just to see if this is the sort of place I'd really like to get married in some day."_

"_Oh! Did you come down here to change?"_

"_What? No."_

"_You're getting married in that?"_

_Jane looked down at her track pants and old Red Sox jersey. "Yeah, what's the matter with it?" she asked defensively. _

"_Uh—nothing, I guess, if it's what you really want."_

"_Well, I can see how it'd look dumb to someone dressed up like you. You're beautiful."_

_That perked the girl right up. "You really think so?"_

"_Yeah! What's your name?"_

"_Dorothea."_

_Well, that was a little surprising. "Dorothea! Okay… uh, my name's Jane." _

"_Jane. Well, it's very nice to meet you."_

_Jane grinned and shook Dorothea's extended hand before dropping it nervously. "You too. Hey, um…if you're not doing anything, do you wanna come up and join our party? We've got foot-long hotdogs and lemonade, and people are gonna throw peanuts!"_

"_Whatever for?"_

"_Y'know, instead of throwing rice! Come on, it'll be fun!"_

"_I don't know, Jane. I'm used to being alone." _

"_There aren't gonna be a whole lot of people there. Just my crazy family and some friends. C'mon, I bet they'll all love you."_

"_How could you know that?" Dorothea asked curiously. _

_This was a valid question, Jane had to admit. "I dunno," she said thoughtfully, sticking her hands into her pockets. "I feel like I know you. You're nice."_

"_And beautiful. Don't forget you said beautiful," Dorothea said, feigning a regal pose._

"_Well that's obvious," Jane chuckled. She reached out one hand. "Come on. Come with me." Jane wasn't sure why she felt so nervous, like so much hinged on whether or not this girl would come along. But it suddenly seemed like the most important moment in her life, as if it would determine everything. If Dorothea didn't come up with her, Jane didn't think she'd be able to reappear with a smile on her face. It would be too sad leaving her behind._

_Fortunately, Dorothea didn't keep her waiting long. She took Jane's hand and both girls smiled. _

"_Jane!"_

"_Yeah?"_

"_You're glowing."_

A loud car alarm jarred Jane suddenly from her sleep. She blinked a few times as she tried to orient herself, and it slowly came back to her—the mattress had never made it to her bedroom, and she was lying on top of it in the living room. She was still dressed in tank top and slacks, and it felt as if she'd slept in a funny position. The alarm kept sounding off as she groaned and groggily sat up, part of her unable to believe that anyone still actually used those car alarms.

Wait. Maura had been with her last night. Where was she now?

That question was answered when a voice behind Jane said, "Well good morning."

"Mmph. Maura?"

"Correct!"

Jane moaned and got to her feet to see Maura standing behind the island in the kitchen, pouring herself a glass of orange juice. "I hope you don't mind—I needed something to help wake myself up, and I don't care for your brand of instant coffee."

"Of course you don't," Jane mumbled, walking over.

"Can I get you something?"

"From my own kitchen? Why yes, thank you." Jane yawned and walked over to the cupboard, getting out a box of Coco Puffs. She heard Maura click her tongue disapprovingly, but Jane ignored her and poured herself a bowl. "C'mon, Maura, give me a break. I'm allowed to have kid's cereal once in a while, aren't I? Don't answer that. I know it's unhealthy. That's part of the fun! You missed out on so much as a kid, you have no idea."

"Mm."

"So you didn't like… wait. Did you fall asleep here, Maura?"

"Yes, I did. Don't you remember? We were talking about our fantasy wedding." Maura quickly corrected herself when Jane teasingly raised her eyebrows. "Wedding_s_. Or you were finally telling me yours, anyway."

"Yeah, I remember that part."

"And then someone in the building started playing Vivaldi very loudly, and you wanted to go complain, but you were too tired to get up, so I started talking about Vivaldi to you and you fell asleep."

"I did? Wow. Sorry about that."

Maura shrugged. "It's all right."

"So…why didn't you leave?"

She shrugged again. "I was comfortable."

"In a silk top and pencil skirt?"

"Yes," Maura answered simply. "Granted my dry cleaner won't be very happy with what it did to my clothes, and it wasn't terribly comfortable when I woke up this morning, but it was all right at the time. Quite all right, actually."

Jane suddenly remembered her dream, and wondered if she ought to bring it up. It seemed obvious to her that Dorothea had been Maura, but she worried about the psychoanalysis that was sure to go down if she told Maura about it. Surely she would look too much into it—it had just been a dream, and a very natural one at that. They had been talking about weddings and childhood fantasies, hadn't they? It made complete sense that she would have had such a dream.

Much as she wanted to tell herself this, Jane couldn't help feeling like it may have been telling her something else. She remembered the first time she'd fantasized about her Fenway Park wedding was after their neighbor's son Terrence had gotten married when Jane was ten. Angela had teased Jane endlessly about how handsome Terrence was, and wasn't Jane a little jealous of his bride? Stuck resolutely in her boys-are-gross phase, Jane had said absolutely not. People weren't handsome or beautiful. They were just people.

But then Terrence's bride had walked down the aisle and Jane had felt something burn inside her. She hardly took her eyes off the bride for the entire ceremony or the reception afterwards. While her brothers ran around at the party, getting their clothes dirty and causing general mayhem, Jane had stayed politely in her seat, hoping the bride would be impressed by how well-behaved she was.

_Weird memory_.

Now here was Maura, standing at her kitchen island in the morning like it was the most natural routine in the world. And it just felt so nice. Jane loved knowing that Maura had fallen asleep in bed with her, and that she had still been in the apartment when Jane woke up. _It's like she was waiting for me_. She had always been very aware of how much her family meant to Maura, and how much Maura cherished and needed that relationship. But she herself, Jane, had always taken Maura for granted.

She wanted to be the one who cheered Maura up when she was down. She felt very sharply and very suddenly how much it would hurt if Maura ever got that volcano wedding with someone else.

Perhaps what was about to happen had always been inevitable.

"Hey, Maura?"

"Yes?"

"What're you doing tonight? Like after work?"

"I haven't really got any plans. Why?" She grinned. "Going to try and talk me into helping you set up that horrific contraption of a bed you've got?"

"Nope. Going to try and talk you into letting me take you out."

It hadn't been nearly as scary as Jane might've thought it would be, even when Maura was giving her that trademark puzzled look of hers. "You mean…"

"Like a date."

"A date."

"Yes."

Maura considered this for a moment, gazing at Jane's face. Jane looked utterly calm; serious, but not gravely so. Just enough to make it clear that this wasn't intended to be a joke. What's more her voice had been steady and confident. But why now? Was it all their talk of weddings that had gotten her suddenly interested in this possibility? Was she just tired? No… that wouldn't be Jane's style.

Ultimately Maura decided the reasons why didn't matter. The only thing that mattered was the fact that Jane had asked. "I think that would be lovely." And for the width of the grin that this answer caused, Maura might just have proposed.


	4. Shall We Dance

**A/N**: Thanks for the support, guys! These oneshots have been fun to write, and here's another! For the optimum reading experience, I recommend going to Youtube or someplace about halfway through and pulling up a recording of Glenn Miller's "Moonlight Serenade." Because my grandparents have the best taste in music. :)  
Also, there's a shout-out here to the season 1 blooper reel.

* * *

"So you must've had a wedding fantasy when you were little. C'mon!" Maura laughed when Jane just chuckled. "Every little girl has one!"

"Okay, okay," Jane gave in. "It wasn't really a _fantasy_…I just had this dumb idea I would…" She turned to glance at her friend, but had to look away when Maura actually returned the move—Jane knew she could never get this out with a straight face if Maura was looking at her. "Say my vows at Fenway, over home plate. In a Red Sox jersey." She shot another nervous glance at Maura to see that the doctor was still looking at her, and then Maura broke into a beautiful smile and they both started laughing, each turning to face the ceiling again.

_Geez, Maura, you've got such a beautiful laugh!_

"It's not dumb!" Maura chuckled. "It's not exactly _elegant_, but at least it's colorful!"

When the laughter died out, Jane found herself continuing, and Maura found herself unable to look away: "We would have the reception over the pitcher's mound, and we would serve foot-long hotdogs and frozen lemonade …and guests would throw peanuts at us instead of rice."

"Can I come?" Maura asked.

Jane rolled onto her side, a bit startled by how much she overshot it and how close she was to Maura. "What kind of dumbass question is that? Can you _come?_"

"I guess it was just one of my poor attempts at humor."

"Of course you're coming," Jane murmured, throwing her arm over Maura's stomach. Maura tensed immediately, but in hopes of distracting Jane from the fact that she had, she brought her hand down to gently touch Jane's forearm.

Things like this seemed to happen quite frequently between them. Neither of them would ever consider themselves very touchy-feely people, except when they were with each other. Jane hated having her personal space invaded, but with Maura, she never really minded. In fact, her feelings were so the opposite of being annoyed that she sometimes felt almost disconcerted about it. Each began second-guessing herself when one touch lasted too long or one gaze lingered too much, and in an effort to make things less weird, one of them would overcompensate with humor or more overt physical contact.

"_Take off your shirt." "W—okay, now I __know__ you suffered a head injury!"_

_Pull Maura in, convince Giovanni, push her on the boobs to make her go away. Yup! Not gay!_

_Sitting on a park bench, Maura rubs her hand up and down Jane's leg. Jane pretends to lean in for a kiss, and Maura even moves to grab her face before Jane pulls back and laughs, not able to take their kidding that far. Which of course led to another accidental boob grab. But it had all been a laugh, hadn't it? Just a case of one-upping each other?_

For Jane it was a matter of not wanting to look gay. If she overplayed it, nobody would assume how she really felt about Maura, right? She'd be making a joke of it, and then Maura wouldn't have to feel weird. For Maura, it was a matter of trying not to fall for her best friend. It couldn't work out well… could it?

Whatever it was, it brought them to this moment: lying on Jane's mattress after drinking some wine, talking about wedding fantasies, Jane's arm slung over Maura's waist and one of Maura's coming to rest around Jane's shoulder. Cuddling, like friends do.

"A Red Sox _jersey?_" Maura asked, trying to lighten the mood.

"Hey, you're in _my_ fantasy," Jane said, pretending to sound annoyed. "You cannot tell me what to wear!"

She loved being able to feel Maura's laugh. "All right, so then what do _I _get to wear in your fantasy?"

"Well, you're my best friend, so I guess you'd be the Maid of Honor," Jane said. "So I figure you could wear umpire gear and the bridesmaids would all wear Green Monster T-shirts."

"_Gear?_" Maura whined. "It's so bulky and unattractive!"

"Maura, please," Jane snorted. "You could show up wearing a Lady Gaga-inspired outfit of athletic cups and still look amazing."

"That does _not _sound aesthetically pleasing," Maura observed seriously, earning her an unseen eye roll. "But if I was your Maid of Honor, that would mean I get to plan out your bachelorette party, wouldn't it?"

Jane groaned. "No! No bachelorette party, no bridal shower, no nothing. Oh, don't pout!" she laughed, glancing up to see the look of exaggerated disappointment on Maura's face. "You just want an excuse to hire a bunch of male strippers."

"I do not!"

"Yes you do! I knew I never should've agreed to go with you to _Magic Mike_."

"Oh, Jane. All right, no strippers and no bachelorette party. What about a reception?"

"I dunno, what about it?"

"Or the music for your ceremony! I always wanted an orchestral quartet to play at my wedding, as I walked down the aisle." She sighed dreamily.

Jane couldn't help picturing it: Maura with her shining hair elaborately and impeccably styled, flowing over her shoulders, a pure white dress with an empire waist and twenty-foot train leaving everyone in awe as she walked down the aisle to a bass, a cello, and two violins playing Pachelbel's Canon. And then she would arrive at the altar, standing next to and smiling at some nameless, faceless guy that Jane wanted to punch.

"And would your reception end by everyone jumping into the volcano?" Jane asked.

"Shut up."

"Whoa! Snark from Dr. Isles? It was an honest question!" Jane laughed.

They were silent for a few more moments, and then the sounds of old jazz music came wafting into the apartment. Jane groaned again, although she sounded more exasperated than annoyed this time. She moaned internally when Maura sat up, dislodging Jane's arm from over her stomach.

"Where's that music coming from?"

"Down the hall," Jane mumbled, rubbing her eyes. "Apartment next to the one Riley was in, actually. Dennis Mitchell, World War II vet. He's kinda gone deaf, so he has to blast his music when he listens to it." She sighed and groggily sat up. "I tried asking him to turn it down once, but then he wound up just bringing me into his apartment and giving me coffee and telling me all about his experiences in Bataan. He's a real cool guy. I can't bring myself to ask him to shut off his music anymore."

"It's nice," Maura said. "I like it. Glenn Miller."

"Hm?"

"Glenn Miller's 'String of Pearls.' That's the song."

"Oh. Gotcha."

"I actually wanted to have my first dance with my husband to a Glenn Miller song."

Jane laughed, but the sound died in her throat at the sight of Maura's utterly honest face. "What're you, secretly ninety years old?"

"It's lovely!" Maura chided her, giving Jane's arm a shove. "And when I was twelve, my parents were trying give me a bit of education about Americana, so they introduced me to one of the original American genres. Jazz. When they would go to concerts, I would put on a record of Benny Goodman or Glenn Miller and dance to it… alone. If I was feeling _really _fancy, I might pour a little apple juice into a champagne flute and drink it."

This was sort of a sad image. Jane could just picture a young Maura, dressed in her fanciest clothes with a flute of apple juice, twirling around alone in a big, empty European flat.

"How would you dance?" Jane asked seriously.

Maura raised an eyebrow. "I'm not showing you! You'd just make fun of me!"

That made Jane all the more curious. "No I won't! I promise! Just show me."

A new song came on, and Maura gasped. "Oh, 'Moonlight Serenade'! This was what I wanted to accompany our first dance—this song always used to make me swoon! Isn't it lovely?"

"Uh…sure, I guess."

Before Jane quite knew what was happening, Maura had stood up and taken Jane's hand, pulling her up with her. "Come on," she said eagerly, putting her hands on Jane's shoulders. "Dance with me!"

"What?" Jane sputtered, hands hanging uselessly by her side.

"Humor me, please?" Maura begged. "I've never gotten to dance to this song with anyone, and now I can practice for if I ever get that volcano wedding of mine."

"Maura, c'mon, don't be silly. I can't dance." _Crap. You should've said yes. A friend would laugh and go along with it. You're making it weird!_

"Don't be shy," Maura said, taking Jane's hands and putting them on her waist.

"Okay, okay," Jane muttered, allowing Maura to set the pace. She kept waiting for it to stop being awkward, but it never did. She did get more into the song and eventually stopped stepping on Maura's toes, but Jane remained uncomfortable with where this was going. Maybe she _shouldn't _have been so accommodating. Her gaze was fixed firmly at a spot over Maura's shoulder until she finally brought herself to glance at those hazel eyes, and she felt like her stomach was about to drop. "S-so. Maura."

"Yes?" It was incredible and not a little nerve-wracking how sensual Maura was able to make that one word.

"When you were twelve…did you still envision dancing to this song with Antonio autopsy-guy?"

"No," Maura chuckled. "I didn't care who it was at that point."

"Who do you picture being the groom now?" Jane asked. "Or are you too old for fantasies?"

_No, I'm not_. "I don't picture a groom."

Jane's heartbeat picked up dangerously. "Well you gotta marry _some_body," Jane scoffed. "Otherwise it isn't really a wedding, is it?"

Maura recognized the trepidation in Jane's voice, but was determined to beat it. "No, it wouldn't be," she agreed. "But I could have a bride, you know." Jane tensed under her touch, but Maura stayed firm. "I've decided recently to keep my options open. If I get married, it will be because I fell in love."

They had all but stopped dancing, only swaying slightly, as Jane tried to stay casual. "Have you fallen in love with a woman before?"

_Just one. _"I just think that …I think that the idea of love and everything it encompasses—living together, pleasuring one another, being a couple—shouldn't be restricted by something as basic and black-and-white as anatomy."

"You think it's that simple?" Jane whispered.

"I don't know if anything about love is simple."

"I mean, you think a woman could date guys her whole life, and then wind up being married to a woman? And being happy?"

There was nothing guarded in the look Maura was now giving Jane. "If she fell in love, yes."

Jane finally stopped moving, though her hands remained at Maura's waist. "What're you doing, Maura?" she asked in a quiet voice.

"You can't figure it out, detective?" Maura asked, trying to smile but her voice trembling with nerves. "I'm attempting to come onto you."

Jane grinned warily as the serenade ended and a new song began. "Attempting?"

"Why, is it working?"

_And how_. The cheesy '40s phrase passed through her head, but Jane found herself strangely unable to speak. All it took to get her to act was one more pleading look from her closest friend, and she leaned down, brushing her lips against Maura's. She was rewarded with a soft moan, and one of Maura's hands curled around the back of her neck while the other traveled down to rest at Jane's hip. When Jane pulled away, Maura effortlessly reeled her back in, and Jane didn't resist. This feeling was too perfect. _What have I been running away from? _

_From happiness. From joy. From Maura. From potential. _

"I don't want to run anymore," she heard herself whisper out loud.

Judging by the hungry look on her face and from her tone, Maura understood Jane's intent. She wanted this as much as Maura did. So with a grin that was slowly reflected, Maura took Jane's hand and suggested, "Then how about we dance?"


	5. Who Loves You

**A/N**: So I found myself watching this episode again, leading to another idea for pillow talk :) I just love this scene so freakin' much, and wanted to write another oneshot that focused a bit more on Maura. (**just as a reminder- **Dennis is mentioned in this one, but at this point in the show he hasn't yet been revealed to be a serial killer. So that's why that doesn't come up in their conversation, haha.)

* * *

It didn't matter how silly or unglamorous Jane's wedding fantasy had sounded: Maura wanted to be there when and if it ever happened. Maura had about as much interest in baseball as Jane had in modern art, which is to say that a wedding would be a much more intriguing reason for Maura to go to Fenway than an actual game. And of course Jane would want to be married in a sports jersey.

"Can I come?" Maura asked.

"Maybe," Jane teased her, rolling onto her side to face Maura.

The move caused Maura's breath to hitch—she had been about to do the same exact thing before Jane turned first, and if Maura had rolled over as well, they would have been close enough to kiss. The mere thought of it very nearly made Maura's heart stop, when actually quite the opposite happened and she was sure her heartbeat actually quickened momentarily, a sure sign of attraction in her case (no surprise there; she'd been fighting an attraction to Jane for quite some time now). This was probably what accounted for the breathy, weak, "okay" she offered by way of response.

"But only if I can come to yours," Jane said. She thought Maura's last reply had sounded a little choked for some reason, and she wanted to lighten the atmosphere again.

However, it seemed that she had done just the opposite. She watched Maura's face in profile as her brow furrowed and a thoughtful frown appeared. "That depends," she said.

Well, given Maura's utter seriousness, that was unexpected. "On what?" Jane asked, a little baffled. She propped herself up on one elbow to get a better look at Maura's expression, as Maura remained lying on her back.

Sparing a quick glance for Jane before returning her gaze safely to the ceiling, Maura said, "On how you feel about my groom."

"What…?"

All Jane could think of was the very brief conversation she and Maura had once had about Dean (or, as Jane had started calling him since the Doyle shooting, "He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named"). At one time a reasonably attractive and even intriguing man, Dean had been the only person Jane and Maura had ever both expressed an interest in. But Maura didn't begrudge her friend when Dean made his choice, had she? The only way Jane could think to translate Maura's last comment was in that way: _if you loved him, too, I wouldn't want you to be there. _That was the only way it made sense, right?

Wait, no, not right. Why would Maura even think something like that?

Finally Maura cleared things up a little: "You've never liked any of the men I've dated."

"What? That's not true!"

"It _is_ true," Maura said, looking up at her. Honestly, she was a bit surprised at Jane's jaw-dropped reaction. Maura sat up a little, leaning back on both her elbows and keeping her eyes on Jane. "And if you couldn't bring yourself to wind up doing anything aside from actively disliking the man I married, I don't know if I could handle your being at my wedding, Jane. It would make me too sad."

"Maur—Maura! I can't believe you'd even say that!"

Maura gave the best shrug she could in her position. "I'm just being honest. Of course I _want _you to be at my wedding, Jane. You're the only real friend I've ever had, and when we first became close, I even thought how nice it would be to have you as my Maid of Honor one day. But not if you were just going to sit there all grouchy and unpleasant because you didn't like my husband."

Jane couldn't believe their conversation had wandered into this territory, and on some level she also couldn't believe how hurt she felt. "Why the hell do you assume I wouldn't like your husband?"

"Past experience," Maura replied calmly. She shifted all of her weight onto one side, mimicking Jane's much more comfortable pose, even if it felt too casual and relaxed for the route their dialogue was taking. "Name one man I've dated or one man who's expressed an interest me who hasn't caused you to sputter, roll your eyes, or get angry."

Jane's mouth dropped open again, and she was unable to speak. Actually, all she could think of right now was the first time Dean had entered their lives—how he had offered to stay the night in her apartment, and she had turned him away; then, how she had later gone to Maura's apartment for some companionship, and Maura had turned Dean away to be with her. _Both of them had had the opportunity to spend that very night with him, and they had instead chosen to sleep in the same bed together._

Correctly assuming that Jane's stunned silence was a sign that she couldn't think of a way to properly respond to Maura's challenge, Maura took the initiative: "Tommy."

"He's my _brother_!" Jane hissed, annoyed and thinking her reaction to that relationship had been perfectly normal.

"There was Ian, who you investigated behind my back."

"W—well, he was shady! And doing illegal stuff, so I was totally in the right!"

"Byron, who you slandered at every turn."

"C'mon, Maura, you said yourself that his bedside manner was gross!"

"Giovanni, also slandered at every turn."

"Maura, again, _you said yourself_ that you couldn't stand talking to him!"

"How about Garrett?"

Jane almost looked relieved to have found an easy answer. "_Really? _Maura, he murdered someone."

"Yes, but before we found that out, you still didn't like him. That was very apparent. Can you deny it?"

"He was smug, okay? I don't go for smug."

"That's not the point, he wasn't going for you," Maura pointed out. "He was going for me. And face it, Jane, you don't ever like the men who go for me. Not even our yoga instructor!"

"Ew, that smarmy guy who had his hands all over you when we went on that double date with Jorge?"

"Or how about Dennis?"

"Who?"

"Dennis Rockmond!"

Jane rolled her eyes and flopped onto her back again. "Oh, you mean the jackass who got you to commit a felony and hasn't called you in three months? You're right. How could I have _possibly _thought he didn't deserve you?"

Maura was tempted to say "see what I mean?", but it was clear by Jane's expression that an original thought had finally registered with her. She was kneading her hands—a sure sign that she was stressing over something. After a painfully long pause, Maura whispered, "Jane?"

"What?" Jane asked a little too quickly, too sharply. After the perturbed syllable came out of her, Jane's facial features all tightened momentarily, almost unnoticeably.

That small gesture of regret for her tone might have slipped past someone else, but Maura was too in tune with Jane's every tic to have missed it. So in a patient, honestly inquisitive tone, she asked, "What must a man be, have, or do in order for you to think he deserves me?"

Jane gulped, keeping her eyes on the ceiling. She was now very much aware of the fact that she was circling the scars on her palm, but she couldn't bring herself to stop. It sounded very much like Maura was onto her, but Jane felt uncharacteristic fear descending upon her at the thought of finally confessing her growing interest in Maura; an interest which went beyond mere friendship. More time. She needed to buy more time. _Better answer that question, then! _

"How about that autopsy guy?" she finally said. "The one you told me you imagined marrying?"

"Antonio Benivieni?"

"Yeah, him. He must be smart, right?"

"Yes…"

"Him, then."

"You _do _realize Antonio Benivieni has been dead since the beginning of the sixteenth century, right?"

_Even better_. "Well, I mean his type. You deserve somebody smart, Maura." She held up her hand and started ticking off her fingers: "That knocks out Giovanni, and Tommy."

"Tommy's not stupid, Jane!"

"Just because he can play chess doesn't mean he's brilliant, Maura."

"So you think I need someone _brilliant_."

"Someone who can challenge you at more than just chess, yeah. And he can't be a smarmy kiss-ass, so that gets rid of Byron, Dennis, that yoga instructor, and Garrett. Oh, and he has to be reasonably healthy," she added as an afterthought. "Unlike Marfan man. And he can't do illegal stuff."

Maura sat up enough to reach behind her for her long-abandoned glass of wine. She took a long sip, then looked down at Jane, who seemed to be purposefully avoiding her gaze. "Okay," she said slowly. "I can understand why that would be yet another reason to dismiss Dennis, as his desire to break the law was somewhat immature and, I think, inspired by a misguided attempt to impress me. Would you consider Ian to be on the same level as that? After all, he only bent the rules to try and help people."

"Doesn't matter," Jane said brusquely.

"Because breaking the law is still breaking the law?" Maura sighed.

"Because he left you." Jane finally brought herself to look over at Maura, and felt her heartbeat spike: there was no mistaking the look in Maura's eyes, just as there had been no mistaking the tone of Jane's voice. "If you were the love of _his _life," Jane continued in a gravelly voice, "He would have made your relationship his priority." She gulped for a little fresh air in the second Maura took to place her wine glass back down on the floor. "You deserve someone who will never, _ever _leave you."

When Maura lay back down, it was on her side and incredibly close to Jane. Close enough for her breath to hit Jane's bare shoulder.

"Any candidates?" she whispered.

Jane took a deep breath. How to proceed without being too direct? "So it's got to be a groom, right?" she asked. "No, uh… no chance of it being like… a…" God, why was this so hard to get out? "A woman?"

Maura took a moment to answer, causing a million insecurities to needle Jane, none of which were helped by Maura's baffled tone when she asked, "Have I ever given you any indication to believe I would be interested in women?"

"Uh…no, I guess not," Jane mumbled, blushing and feeling something deflate inside her chest.

"Oh. Time to fix that, then."

A moment after hearing that remark, Jane turned to look at Maura. She watched in nervous excitement as Maura's eyes dipped noticeably to her lips and back up again. Maura propped herself up again, enough to be leaning over Jane. This was what they both wanted, she was sure of it. She ran a thumb over Jane's thin lips, eliciting a barely perceptible shudder.

"I'm going to kiss you now," she whispered.

Jane's voice was barely a breath: "Okay."

Maura shifted her hand down to Jane's neck before leaning in for a kiss, and Jane's reciprocation was startlingly immediate. She lifted her fingers to curl in Maura's hair, her other hand going to Maura's waist and gripping it tightly. Soon enough their mouths were hot and open against each other's, and Jane's hand had wandered down to Maura's ass, pulling her over to lie fully on top of her. Everything inside her was clenching, pulsing at the feel of Maura this close to her, kissing her like this.

But she didn't want to be taken in this manner quite yet. Some things had to be cleared up first.

A satisfied moan came out of Maura's lips when she felt Jane's legs squeeze her own, and then Jane used this position to roll them over so that she was on top. Impatiently she swept her hair over to one shoulder, both of them breathing heavily and momentarily lost for words or action as they looked at each other. Maura's heart felt faint at the sight of Jane looking down at her like this, fully exploiting her dominant personality in a way Maura had been fantasizing about for some time now. And Jane throbbed with long-burning desire when she gazed down at Maura Isles in this heat, her face flushed and lips parted, luminous hair mussed up a bit more than usual.

"Am I smarmy?" she finally asked.

"No," Maura breathed. Her response was rewarded with a long kiss.

Jane moved down to Maura's neck. "Unintelligent?"

"No—ahh," Maura whimpered as Jane nipped at a spot close to her ear.

"I'm in reasonable health?"

"It would seem so," Maura answered. "Although it wouldn't be to either of our detriment for me to make a more thorough examination myself."

A shiver went down Maura's spine as she felt Jane's chuckle against her neck. "Am I on the right side of the law?"

"Yes."

"Damn straight I am." Jane's hand crept under the loosened hem of Maura's shirt, stroking the skin near her hip.

A sharp intake of breath preceded Maura's next observation. "If this is any indication, 'damn straight' you're not."

Jane had been so into what she was doing that it took her a second to understand the quip. She stopped and looked back up at Maura, whose bottom lip was between her teeth, like she was regretting the timing of her joke. Whether or not it had been appropriate, Jane couldn't help laughing, and that eased Maura into feeling like she could as well. If anything, it got Jane to pause and let up, which was probably needed at this point. She had lost her head for a second there. After a few moments of shared soft laughter, Jane stroked Maura's cheek and leaned down for a long, slow kiss.

"No matter what happens," Jane whispered, finally pulling back. "No matter where this goes, or where I go or you go, Maura… would I ever leave you?"

Maura's throat constricted with a sudden influx of emotions. She and Jane had been through every level of hell together and always wound up feeling safe in each others' arms, regardless of the problem they had had to overcome. The answer to this question, then, was the easiest so far: a quiet yet categorical "no."


End file.
